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A subject for a great poet would be God's boredom after the seventh day of creation.
A subject for a great poet would be God's boredom after the seventh day of creation.
As a poet and as a mathematician, he would reason well; as a mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned read more
As a poet and as a mathematician, he would reason well; as a mere mathematician, he could not have reasoned at all, and thus would have been at the mercy of the Prefect
Ah, poet-dreamer, within those walls
What triumphs shall be yours!
For all are happy and rich and read more
Ah, poet-dreamer, within those walls
What triumphs shall be yours!
For all are happy and rich and great
In that City of By-and-by.
The union of the mathematician with the poet, fervor with measure, passion with correctness, this surely is the ideal
The union of the mathematician with the poet, fervor with measure, passion with correctness, this surely is the ideal
Sure there are poets which did never dream
Upon Parnassus, nor did taste the stream
Of Helicon; read more
Sure there are poets which did never dream
Upon Parnassus, nor did taste the stream
Of Helicon; we therefore may suppose
Those made not poets, but the poets those.
I have never yet known a poet who did not think himself
super-excellent.
[Lat., Adhue neminem cognovi poetam, read more
I have never yet known a poet who did not think himself
super-excellent.
[Lat., Adhue neminem cognovi poetam, qui sibi non optimus
videretur.]
There is a pleasure in poetic pains,
Which only poets know.
There is a pleasure in poetic pains,
Which only poets know.
Nations are born in the hearts of poets, they prosper and die in the hands of politicians.
Nations are born in the hearts of poets, they prosper and die in the hands of politicians.
Ovid's a rake, as half his verses show him,
Anacreon's morals are a still worse sample,
Catullus read more
Ovid's a rake, as half his verses show him,
Anacreon's morals are a still worse sample,
Catullus scarcely has a decent poem,
I don't think Sappho's Ode a good example,
Although Longinus tells us there is no hymn
Where the sublime soars forth on wings more ample;
But Virgil's songs are pure, except that horrid one
Being with "Formosum Pastor Corydon."